


Window Treatment

by twoscarypandas



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Smut, mostly the smut, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 02:31:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoscarypandas/pseuds/twoscarypandas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Poor Lithuania is about to discover why no one ignores Poland... for very long." Domestic fluff and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Window Treatment

Poland has a habit of completely redecorating and renovating his house at least three times a year, usually based on a whim or the newest style trends. But when he and Lithuania finally took a vacation out to the country house they’d left empty for years, even Lithuania had to admit it was in need of some renovations.

Several not-so-relaxing trips later, the house is finally coming together. It has electricity, running water, and they can work without fear that the entire structure will collapse. Poland even washed the sheets. Several times. Then decided the sheets were hideous, as was the bed, and tossed them all in favor of something more comfortable and much more stylish. Happy that the house is now, at the least, livable, Poland is busy picking out paint while Lithuania works on a window. “What do you think? Amaranth, Carmine, Cerise, Rose, or Coral?”

“Yup.” Lithuania agrees to whatever Poland is saying without hesitation, muttering around the nails between his lips. This frame is in need of some serious work; it might fall off if he doesn't tack it in properly. He concentrates on the task, trying not to think about what will come later, when they're both satisfied with the day's work and seeking other satisfactions. It's not safe to think about such things while on a ladder.

Poland holds paint samples against the wall, closing one eye. “Maybe Apricot? I mean, we don't want to overwhelm the room. Ohmygod, no, I've got it!” Color cards fly out of his hands. He runs out of the room, returning moments later with two flags – one Polish, one Lithuanian. He half-hangs them around the fireplace, grinning. “Perfect! We need something that will set them off. Like, a nice cream shade. I mean, I'd do the whole place in red and white, but that's totally not fair to you.”

Lithuania doesn't reply. This nail isn't tacked in right, it's wobbly. Annoyed, he pulls it out and tosses it into a bucket full of half-bent nails. He's not a very good handy-man, but Poland seems to think he can do the job. As usual. He grabs another nail and begins softly tapping it into place.

Poland pouts, because all of Lithuania's concentration is on that window. SO unfair. “Liet! You're ignoring my awesome ideas! I have your flag in there and everything!”

Lithuania pauses his hammering, peering over his shoulder and speaking through the nails between his teeth. “M'lis'ning.”

Poland sighs. It is rather clear he will not be getting any attention right now. Liet gets too caught up in work, no matter what kind of work it is. He'll need to think of a way to keep him from getting too stressed about the house. It's supposed to be fun! He folds up the flags and puts aside the paint samples. “Are you hungry or anything? I was thinking about dinner.”

Dinner does sound good. Lithuania would kill to get off this ladder right now; his back is killing him. He pulls the nails from his lips. “Dinner would be great.” Grabbing the edge of the ladder, he steps to the floor, finally stretching and rolling his shoulders with a groan of bliss. He needed that.

Poland comes up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and planting a kiss on his neck. “And maybe later a massage?”

Lithuania smiles a bit at that, slowly turning around to face him and kiss his mouth. His hands slide to Poland’s hips before he pulls back, resting his forehead against his. “I can think of other ways to use your hands.”

Of course _now_ he has his attention. Poland starts to roll his eyes, but then gets a wicked idea. If it works, after dinner they’re going to have a lot more fun than Liet thinks. “Kinky Liet,” he teases, then pulls away, giggling and aiming for the kitchen. “I was talking about _your_ hands anyway!”

Lithuania blushes a little. He's growing used to Poland’s way of revving him up, then teasing him for it. He likes it - he's never been called "kinky" by anyone else. “ _My_ hands?” He drags a finger down Poland’s spine as he passes him, heading for the fridge. “I don't know, Po. I thought you'd be a bit wary of them after last night.”

Poland sticks out his tongue as he starts rummaging for pots and pans, wiggling his ass. “Face it, Liet, you just can't keep your hands off me!”

Lithuania laughs; he really can't help it. Just knowing that he _can_ touch him has made it hard to think of anything else. He can't deny himself the pleasure any more than an alcoholic can deny themselves a drink. Lithuania leans over Poland, reaching down and goosing both ass cheeks, his hips pressing just close enough to brush his zipper against the seam of his lover’s pants. “When did I ever say I could?”

Shivering a little, Poland briefly presses back against him. But he really is hungry. He produces a pan and stands, brandishing it in a very Hungary-like manner. “Oi! No sex until I'm fed!” He glances at the pan, and it does indeed remind him of Hungary. His face lights up. “Ohmygod! Did I tell you I ran into Hungary this morning? She was all, "Heard you were working on that old house! How’s it looking?" and I was like, "Oh it’s great! We're super-excited." And then we talked for like an hour, and she's got SUCH good ideas, so she might come over this week or something.”

Lithuania smiles at him, shaking his head slowly. Poland gets so excited about every little thing. He reaches out and lifts the pan from his fingers. “We are having kielbasa.” He sticks his tongue out, sets the pan on the stove, and moves back to the fridge, where he begins to gather all the sausage he can find. “I am craving kielbasa. And if I can't have yours, I'll settle for my own.”

“I'd like to see you suck your own,” says Poland.

“I'd like to see you suck my own, too,” Lithuania replies, bumping the fridge shut with his hip and looking for a knife. He can't help blushing at his own lewdness. Did he really just say that? Poland _does_ bring out the worst (best) in him.

They flirt back and forth until dinner is ready, then sit across from one another at the dining table. This is the original table, beautifully restored to its former glory. The dining room is in a classic style; it still needs work before Poland deems it suitable for company, but he demanded they have a nice table to eat at. It was their first restoration. “So I was thinking,” Poland begins. “When this place is together, we should totally have a party!”

“A party?” asks Lithuania, fork pausing halfway to his mouth.

“Yeah, a house-warming party! Even though it isn’t the house we live in all the time. Everyone likes a party! We’ll have SO much food and alcohol!” He looks around the house, both pleased and panicked by the prospect. “We have to get this place perfect! We have to paint, and finish the windows, and get the furniture set up, and…”

Well, Lithuania does have to agree on that point; the house is definitely not in a condition for guests. The place is littered with boxes and leftover tools. “Don't worry,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead. “We'll get it done.”

“Duh, of course we will. As long as you don’t get distracted,” says Poland, smirking to himself.

XXX

After dinner, they both get back to work, concentration renewed. Well, Lithuania’s is, anyway. He’s so focused on getting that window framed properly that he doesn’t even notice Poland creeping away to change for what is certain to be his most diabolical plan yet. Poor Lithuania is about to discover why no one ignores Poland... for very long.

Poland really has to dig through his closet to find it. He doesn’t want to wear one of his super-cute skirts, in case it gets dirty from their work, but he doesn’t want to wear something gross either. Not that he owns anything gross, but some things are just _way_ out of fashion. With an exclamation of triumph, he pulls out an old green skirt that Liet used to really like. It's a little on the short side now, but that’s exactly what he was hoping for. Poland ditches his overalls and everything underneath in favor of this skirt and a cuter top.

He returns to find Lithuania still at work on the window, frowning as he unsuccessfully tries to hold the pieces at the top and at the bottom. Perfect. Poland sidles up behind him. “Let me help! I can get on the ladder, and you can hold the bottom part.”

Lithuania raises an eyebrow at the offer, looking down at Poland with a mixture of wariness and wonder. “You want to help?” The thought boggles him. But who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth? He climbs down the ladder, holding the bottom of the window in place and waiting for Poland to climb up. He's changed clothes, Lithuania notices vaguely. He's in a skirt now; that really cute green one he used to wear a long time ago. He used to stare at his legs and try not to let his eyes wander any higher.

That stare does not go unnoticed, and Poland grins. He climbs up the ladder and waits for a reaction. When nothing happens he looks back with a smirk, expecting to see his lover speechless. Instead Lithuania has gone back to work at the base of the window, and is holding up a piece for him to grab. With a sigh, Poland realizes he has talked himself into actually helping. He holds the parts in place while Lithuania nails them down or slides them into the appropriate slots.

For some reason, Poland is giving him dirty looks by the time they're finished with the window - and not the fun kind. Lithuania sighs. Ah well. It's Po. He never stays quiet about his gripes for long. He sets his hammer aside and holds out a hand to help him down.

Time for more manipulative tactics. Poland moves down one rung and purposely shakes the ladder. “Liet!” he whines. “Hold the bottom steady! I don't want to fall.”

Lithuania moves fast, holding onto the ladder, looking up to make sure Poland is oka--OHMYGOD. He chokes. Oh God. He didn't know it was possible to get this hard, this fast. His hand slips and he catches himself on the ladder, leaning on it just in time to keep from falling. _Fuck_. He's going to have a stroke in a minute. The way his lover is positioned, gripping the top rung and holding on for dear life, puts his ass openly on display. He gapes, cocking his head to the side to stare.

Now THAT is the speechless reaction Poland was looking for. He smirks. “What's the matter? You look, like, totally flushed.”

Lithuania _is_ , like, totally flushed. And hot. He leans back from the ladder, holding his arms out wide so that Poland can drop down between them. But he doesn't. He just stands up there, showing himself off, making him want to... “You're not wearing any underwear.” He says it with awe, as though it's the most remarkable thing he’s ever witnessed.

Oh, Poland loves it when Liet doesn't know what to say. It's so cute! Especially when he's the one leaving him flustered. “Nope. Why? See something you like?” He feels himself getting a little flushed, too.

He must be joking. “Yes,” Lithuania says softly, one hand on the ladder as the other pulls away from cool steel at the temptation of warm skin. He cups the back of Poland’s knee, sliding his palm firmly and purposefully up the pale flesh of his thigh, the heat of that skin shooting need straight through to his groin. His touch moves slowly, reaching the edge of the skirt after a long moment of enjoying the warm, smooth skin. But he pushes beneath it without hesitation, palming the left globe of his round little ass and giving it a squeeze, letting the fabric ride up over his wrist and show off the rest of him. “Tease.”

Poland groans, resting his head on the top rung of the ladder. His legs are starting to shake; he should probably get down soon. And use the fact that he has definitely got _all_ of Lithuania's attention now. “You know you love me for it.” He wriggles a little against the hand, loving the soft, slow touch.

Lithuania grins, squeezing Poland’s ass and rubbing his thumb over the curve of its round. “I love you for everything. Including your tight little ass.” Leaning up, he moves his thumb just in time to sink his teeth into the fatty flesh, leaving a bite-mark that may be there for a while. Poland deserves it for flaunting himself so evilly.

The bite makes Poland yelp. Kinky Liet indeed, with his roaming hands and sinful words. He can feel his cock getting hard, tenting the front of his short little skirt.

After a long, satisfying hold on that skin, Lithuania pulls his teeth away and licks over the mark, nice and slow. “Did you want me to fuck you right in front of this window? Let the whole world see?” He blows over the flesh, his other hand still gripping the ladder so tightly that it will probably hurt to let go.

“You can fuck me wherever you want, as long as you do it soon,” says Poland.

Lithuania groans, his thumb rubbing over the bite tenderly, pressing in, watching the redness he's created bleed stark white for a moment. There's nothing sexier. He slides his tongue up the cleft, one long lap, before he pulls back and drags Poland off the ladder, only letting go of the thing to pull him into his arms. He wants to fuck him right here, just like this. God - how Po does this to him, he'll never know.

He sets his lover onto his feet, one arm bracing around his waist as the other slips beneath the front of his skirt, dragging up and down his inner thigh, avoiding his cock in clear payback. “I love it when you wear these short little skirts. You know I do.” He whispers in Poland’s ear, low and hot, hot enough to make him tremble. “It's so unfair, Felikselis... You can turn me on without even trying.”

The use of his human name combined with those teasing hands makes Poland melt, but he still manages laugh. “I _do_ try. I've been trying all day!” He doesn't sound quite as vehement as he means to. Not with Liet's breath up against his ear and his hand sliding around beneath the band of his skirt. Most would think sex is best naked, but he disagrees. He loves to do it with his clothes on, or mostly on. They're an adornment for his body, accentuating his best features. He likes the way Lithuania looks too, all hot and hard, just for him. He circles his arms around him, leaning towards his mouth for a kiss. It's dark out now, and he can see their reflection in the new window glass. Oh, that just gives him ideas. His hands move between them and he starts working Lithuania’s belt loose. “Want to watch me suck your kielbasa?”

Lithuania can't help but laugh at that, moving both hands to slide down Poland’s spine and slip up that skirt. He's always loved fucking with his clothes on. It hides all the scars, makes him feel free of them in a way. And he likes the way it feels, the brush of fabric on fabric, the secret touch of skin on skin. It's the most incredible tease. “Yes.” He groans softly, nipping at his lower lip, wanting one last kiss before Poland leaves his mouth for his cock.

Poland doesn't let the kiss last long, instead pulling away to kiss and bite along Lithuania’s jaw and neck until he reaches his collar. He slides down on his knees, eye-level with the open belt and bulging pants. Grinning up at his lover, he holds onto his thighs and uses his teeth to open the button and slowly pull down the zipper. He doesn't pull Lithuania out yet, however; he just presses his open mouth against the cloth of his underwear, sending hot breath through the fabric.

“O-Oh!” Lithuania lets his head drop back, eyes closing in bliss at the hot, heavy breath against his briefs, that fucking _amazing_ mouth opening and closing around the cotton. Torturing him just how he likes. How does Poland know he likes it like this? God - he's given up answering that question. He sinks his hands into his long blonde hair and begins rubbing his bulge against Po’s lips, pulling him closer, forcing him to mouth against the cotton-covered head of his cock. “Fuck yes, Feliks - like _that_!”

Poland smirks around the cotton. He and Lithuania often misunderstand one another, but when it comes to sex they always seem to know just what the other wants. He keeps breathing against him, sometimes sucking but mostly teasing. He intends to drive Lithuania insane, in the best of ways. Finally Poland catches his fingers on the edge of his lover’s waistband, dragging underwear and trousers down just enough to reveal the hot, hard cock. He gives it one long, smooth lick, and then shifts so he's leaning far forward on his knees, the back of the skirt hiked up so that it just skims the top of his thighs. “Look in the window, Toris. Watch me.” He wraps his lips around the head of his cock and sinks down.

Lithuania’s eyes jolt to the window on that command, and he groans hard, his cock jolting at the sight of that sweet ass shifting beneath the skirt, body bowed forward as Poland licks his cock, slow and thorough. _Fuck_. He's so turned on he can't stop himself from jerking against his tongue, shuddering hard, wishing he could reach down and slap that ass, grip it, watch himself touch it through the window glass. But he can't reach. “You're so…!” he gasps, his hands twisting in that hair and dragging Poland’s head closer.

Poland never gets tired of hearing praise from Lithuania. From anyone, really, but Liet's is particularly important to him. He likes making Lithuania feel good; he likes to think it makes up for treating him just a little poorly when they were younger. He sucks harder, sliding his lips up and down the long, thick cock. He can't take in nearly as much as his lover can, so he puts his tongue to work instead, licking and flicking it as quickly as he does when he's talking.

“Ah - Feliks!” Lithuania gasps his name, shaking as he watches Po’s ass wriggle in the reflection, that mouth doing wonderful, unbelievable things to his cock. He wants to let him do this all night, lavish his cock with attention, worship him with his tongue. On the other hand, he can't help wanting more than that, too. “Come up here,” he begs, pulling Poland up by the hair, wanting to drag him up into his arms and kiss him for all he's worth.

Poland sucks for a little longer, refusing to let Liet have his way just yet. He pulls off with a wet pop and kisses the head of his cock, lapping up a drop of fluid gathering at the tip. Then he follows the hand in his hair up to Lithuania’s mouth and kisses him hard, letting his tongue demonstrate all the things he was doing to his lover’s cock.

Lithuania groans into his mouth, backing him up until he can press Poland hard against the window. He lets his tongue take over until he's nearly humping his thigh, he's so hot from their kiss. The skirt rides up higher, showing off a peek of everything, and Lithuania can only imagine the view from the street. He'd be jealous of those passing by if he wasn't absolutely sure they'd be more jealous of him. He pulls Poland’s shirt over his head and lets it drop, wanting to press that pretty bare skin against the window. His hands slide down Poland’s thighs, then back up, gripping his cheeks and spreading them apart, pressing his naked skin against the cold glass. “Tell me how bad you need me, Felikselis,” he whispers against his mouth, grinding his open fly against Poland, pushing the front of his skirt up with the friction.

Poland shivers hard, the juxtaposition of cold glass against his back and warm Lithuania against his chest sending all sorts of mixed signals to his brain. “Need you so much!” he gasps. The friction of their bodies has folded his skirt up over his hips, so as they grind they can enjoy the feel of flesh-on-flesh. “I need you, like, everywhere!”

Lithuania takes Poland’s face in his hands and kisses it slow and heavy, so good it sears his every nerve and makes his toes curl. When he can finally rip himself away, he spins Poland against the glass, pressing his lips to his shoulder as his hand drops down to press a finger against his hole. “So tight!” he hisses against his shoulder, still unable to believe just how wonderfully hot his body is.

With a soft whine, Poland wriggles free of his grip and reaches for his abandoned shirt, retrieving lubrication from a pocket. He jerks a little when Lithuania takes the opportunity to pinch his cheek and glares over his shoulder. His lover simply smirks, well aware that Poland isn’t really angry at all. In retaliation, he holds the tube just out of Lithuania’s reach and drags him into a long, deep kiss. When he is finally satisfied, he presses the tube into Lithuania’s hand and turns back against the window.

With one finger Lithuania gently spreads the lube over his hole, then presses inside. Poland jerks back, not only to feel more but also because the window is painfully cold against his cock. His forehead falls against the glass and his eyes close tight, little gasping sounds coming from his mouth as Lithuania’s lips press against his neck and another finger works its way inside. He grinds back in a whine, opening his eyes to find his own reflection staring back. He can see how his own face is scrunched up, how Lithuania moves behind him, holding him for the world to see how they make love. He sees parts of the road beyond, so it looks like they are ghost lovers standing outside.

Oh- Oh, Po’s so gorgeous, pushing back on his finger, breathing out hot, harsh moans against the window, practically begging to be fucked into the next century. Lithuania twists his fingers and stretches him open, his other hand falling to wrap around his own cock. “Oh Feliks...” He pulls his fingers out and kisses his shoulder, sucking and nipping and doing everything he can to drive Poland _insane_.  He heightens the torture, pressing just the tip of his cock against his hole.

Poland trembles. “Toris wait! Is this like, even going to hold us?” Fucking against a window will certainly test their craftsmanship.

Nipping softly beneath his jaw, Lithuania sighs against his skin. “It'll hold,” he promises, one hand sliding around Poland’s hip to caress his cock. Slowly he pumps it, spreading the moisture at the tip against the glass, pressing himself even closer as he feels Poland shiver and shrink back. “Let me warm you,” he murmurs, breathless, pressing inside inch by torturous inch, wanting to let him feel the way he's being filled.

“Ohhhh God...” Poland can feel every bit of his lover, pressing him flush against the glass and filling him up so slow. He spasms around Lithuania and rocks into his hand, pressing his palms against the glass to keep his balance steady.

Lithuania bottoms out - _Fuck_! - and twists his hand around the base of that cock, trying to pull more need to the surface. But everything spasms, clenching around him so tight that he can't even breathe, let alone move. He has to press his forehead against Poland’s shoulder, moaning out low and needy. “You are so perfect.” His hips begin moving in a slow, erratic rhythm, and his hand catches up barely moments later, jerking him off in a slow, easy stroke. “So perfect... God, Feliks, you make me insane!”

Poland rocks his hips, caught between Lithuania’s cock and his hand, not sure which feels better. He arches his back and moans, but the sound is cut off in a squeak when his nipples hit the window and his whole body clenches. He curls back against Lithuania, trying to feel more of his heat, but the slow, deep thrusts keep forcing him back against the glass. “Kinky Liet!” he says for the hundredth time, because more and more he is discovering it's true. “You totally get off on fucking me like this, right? You've got me trapped, and seriously, anyone could be watching. God...that's hot.”

Just the way he says it, moaning each word like he's trying so hard to sound teasing but can only manage to sound breathless, makes him love Poland even more. The man is coming apart against this window, his body shuddering and twisting and writhing between the heat of him and the cool of the glass. “I do,” says Lithuania. “I like showing the world how much you love me inside you, fucking you. How hot you are when you're begging for me. I love holding you here and letting everybody see you're mine. But... Sounds like you love it more than I do.”

He whispers it all against Poland’s ear, nipping the shell and thrusting in deeper, groaning with delight as his lover yelps, his body pressing too close to that glass. “ _Kinky_ Feliksele.” Lithuania chuckles breathlessly, letting go of Poland’s cock to grab his hips and thrust into him _hard_ , pushing his skirt a little higher and showing off _everything_.

Poland opens his mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a long, high-pitched whine as Lithuania shoves into him, brushing against his sweet spot. He wriggles his hips, trying to get a more direct hit, and, yes, kind of loving the way he gets to show off. The next thrust smacks against his prostate and he cries out. “Oh, yes! There, Toris! Harder!”

How can he say no to that? Lithuania’s hands grip those hips hard and he lets himself go, shoving himself inside over and over in a rhythm that is faster than his heartbeat. He breathes out against Poland’s shoulder, brown hair falling against it. “That's it - God, yes, Feliks!” he gasps, moving faster as he finds better aim and _rams_ into him, making Poland scream and his own body quake. He presses fully against his lover, forcing his body nearly flat against the window, so the fucking becomes more grinding than anything and his cock simply rocks against that spot, his whole body shuddering with the need to come. “So hot- I- _God_ you're so fucking amazing!” He rocks his hips a little harder, feeling Poland clench and spasm so tight that he knows he's nearly there. Thank God. So is he.

Poland swears Lithuania talks more during sex than he does at any other time. He loves that, loves making him come undone and forget his self-control. He, on the other hand, is as loud when they make love as he is on any other occasion. “Ohmygod FUCK! Fuck, yes, Toris, there!” His body spasms around Lithuania, that cock massaging his spot and driving him to the very brink. His hands scrape against the window, finding nothing to cling to as he lingers for a moment on the very edge. “Nhya-hah...OH!” One last thrust against his prostate breaks him, and he comes hard against the window, shouting in Polish and clenching tight around Lithuania.

“Ah-!” Lithuania grips those hips, holding them with enough force to bruise as his cock is squeezed by that tight, tight body. Poland is spasming, letting go, pouring himself against the window as he scrabbles for purchase against the glass, and that sight alone would be enough to make him lose it _without_ the extra pleasure. As it is, he _explodes_ , his body jolting against Poland’s as he comes so hard he whites out. Lithuania slumps around his lover and holds him close, just barely keeping his footing.

Poland helps him slide to the floor. Seated under the window, they both breathe hard as they try to regain some sense of reality. He nuzzles against Lithuania, kisses his lips, and laughs. “Yay! My plan totally worked! I WIN!”

Lithuania chuckles, half-drowsy, eyes flitting up to the stain on the window. “Call it a tie.” He kisses Poland again, pulling him closer and skimming his fingernails over the rounds of his ass. “I love you. So much.”

Poland leans against his shoulder, grinning up at him. “I love you, too.”

Lithuania’s eyes slide back up to the stain on the window, and he sighs, thinking he should probably clean that up, but he can't bring himself to move. He doesn't think his legs will work anyway. “Thank God we don't have kids. Can you imagine? They'd come in and interrupt us right about now.”

Poland laughs, lightly smacking Lithuania's thigh. “You say the silliest things!” He knows that Lithuania means colonies or protectorates as opposed to actual children, like they used to have as a commonwealth. Still, he can’t get the image of miniature versions of themselves out of his head. “Can you imagine? Our kids would be _so_ cute! We could dress them up, and play with them, and teach them to dance!”

Lithuania laughs, leaning his forehead against Poland’s and breathing out slowly. It’s usually not a good idea to encourage such thoughts in Poland, but given their anatomy he doesn’t see the harm. This particular fantasy can go no further than teasing. “Our kids would be terrors. They'd take after you.” He pokes him in the chest good-naturedly. “Stubborn, spoiled, and too pretty for their own good.”

Poland tugs on the lock of hair that has fallen so conveniently in front of Lithuania’s face. “What about you? Gullible, anxious, and far too good to everyone else. Oh, but little Liets would be adorable! And I could paint a nursery!” He giggles, trying not to think about how nice it might actually be. Maybe they'll adopt someday; there are a few micro-nations and little states around.

Lithuania tries to force his blush back, a little embarrassed that Poland is saying those things. He curls around him, pressing his lips to his throat and thinking about it. It'd be different than they're expecting, he supposes. Nations have a way of becoming their own. If they raised a nation, it wouldn't really be like them in the end; it would be its own place with its own personality. But the thought of Po with a little version of himself makes him smile warmly. “Maybe someday we'll find one to raise together.”

“Maybe,” Poland agrees, cuddling against his lover. “For now I'm like, _way_ too into you to pay attention to anyone else. I mean, we'd probably traumatize anyone who lived with us. We have way too much sex, and I have no intentions of stopping soon.”

Lithuania nods against his shoulder, only wishing they had a blanket and a couple of pillows. They could stay here all night. “Good. I have no intentions of letting you.” He lets one hand skim up Poland’s thigh. “Are you cold?” He presses his lover to the floor and wraps himself around him like a human blanket.

“Not anymore.” They should get up. Maybe go to bed, so they can get back to work tomorrow. However, it's quite nice right here. Poland kisses Lithuania's shoulder and whispers in his ear. “Hey Liet....wanna do it again?”

Lithuania grins, leaning over him to get a better view of that coy, seductive smirk. He loves it. “God, yes,” he breathes out against his mouth. He kisses Poland again, soft but hungry, his body pressing between his legs.


End file.
